The doors of the Judgment Hall closed with a sound that felt final —
a slow, grinding echo that buried every last word beneath stone and silence.
Ryn was gone.
Dragged through the black gates below, chained and broken, swallowed by Eldoria's shadow.
For a moment, no one moved.
Even breath felt forbidden in that hollow, firelit chamber.
The Councilors sat unmoving on their thrones, their golden masks catching the light like melted suns. The High Councilor rose at last, his staff glinting with cold authority as his voice rippled through the hall.
"The verdict shall be revealed at dawn — tenth bell. Until then, none shall interfere."
That decree fell like a death sentence.
The guards struck the floor with their spears, and the echo chased them all out.
---
Whispers of Fire
Kaen walked in silence, his boots dragging against the marble floor that still smelled faintly of blood and incense.
The whispers followed him like gnats.
"The monster will burn."
"The Council will make it right."
"Should've killed him in the forest."
He tried to ignore them, but each word dug into his skull, replaying in his mind until they weren't voices anymore — just accusations turned into echoes of his own doubt.
Maybe they're right… maybe he did lose control…
But the moment that thought crossed him, he crushed it with a clenched jaw. He had seen Ryn's eyes before the transformation — not madness, but pain. Not corruption, but sacrifice.
Riku walked beside him, her braid undone and streaked with dirt. She didn't look at him, didn't say a word. Her silence spoke louder than anger — it was the silence of someone whose faith was being tested.
Behind them, Darren and Draxion moved like ghosts — battered, limping, yet still dangerous. The firelight flickered against their armor, turning their wounds into symbols of survival.
When they stepped out into the cold night, the air hit Kaen like a slap. The city lights of Eldoria burned faintly through the mist, their glow sickly and unnatural.
He hated this place — its order, its laws, its false purity.
"Tomorrow," Darren muttered, his deep voice carrying a bitter edge. "They'll decide if our captain lives or dies."
Kaen stopped walking. His hands tightened into fists until the leather of his gloves creaked.
"No," he said, voice low but sharp as steel. "We decide tonight."
Riku looked at him then — just a flicker of her eyes, but it was enough to tell him she understood. There would be no sleep tonight.
---
The Gathering
They reached the edge of the lower quarter — a ruin of stone and ash where even the city guards rarely came.
The storehouse they entered smelled of dust and rusting iron. Darren barred the door behind them while Draxion lit a cracked lantern that threw weak, trembling light across the room.
Kaen unrolled a tattered parchment on the table — its corners torn, its ink faded. A map of Eldoria's inner district.
He had stolen it months ago, back when following orders still meant something.
Riku stepped closer, brushing dust off her shoulder. "That's the Council's Chamber of Verdicts. That's where they'll meet before dawn."
Kaen nodded, pointing to the far left corner. "There — ventilation tunnels. Abandoned after the last collapse. It runs under the west wall and into the Council wing."
Darren leaned over the table, his shadow looming large against the wall. "So… we crawl through filth and stone, dodge guards, and hope we're faster than death. Sounds familiar."
Riku smirked faintly. "It's what we do best."
Draxion folded his arms. "We move quiet, we move fast. No killing unless we're cornered. If one of us falls, the rest keep moving."
Kaen looked up from the map. His voice softened but held a weight that stilled the air.
"We're not leaving without him."
Silence followed — not disagreement, but understanding.
They had seen enough death to know that promises like this could get them all killed.
And yet, no one spoke against it.
---
Before the Descent
They prepared in silence.
Kaen sharpened his sword, the edge still stained from the last battle.
Every scrape of the blade was a heartbeat, every spark a memory of Ryn's hand dragging him out of fire.
Riku sat near the window, rewrapping her arm where the old wound still bled faintly.
Her eyes were far away, staring at the city walls glowing faintly in the distance.
She spoke softly, without turning.
"You think he's still himself… after what happened?"
Kaen paused, the whetstone frozen mid-stroke. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I know what he fought for."
She looked at him finally, her expression unreadable. "And if the Council's right? If the corruption already took him?"
Kaen's jaw clenched. "Then we bring him back — or burn with him."
For a long moment, neither said anything more.
Draxion finished checking his daggers, sliding them into his belt. "If we're doing this," he said, "we go now. Before the dawn bells."
Kaen rose, sheathing his sword. "Then let's move."
---
The Infiltration
Midnight wrapped Eldoria in darkness.
Even the moon refused to watch.
The squad moved through the alleys like living shadows — their cloaks merging with the mist, their steps lighter than the sound of the wind.
The air reeked of smoke and iron, and from somewhere in the city came the distant hum of prayer — the people of Eldoria begging for the monster's death.
They reached the western wall, crouching beneath the old stone where moss grew thick. The air was cold and wet.
Kaen pressed a hand against the wall, fingers finding a faint crack in the pattern of the bricks.
"Here," he whispered.
Riku knelt beside him, brushing away loose moss. The stone gave way, revealing a narrow crawlspace that descended into blackness.
Darren groaned softly. "If the rats start talking, I'm leaving."
Riku shot him a look. "You'd never fit back out."
He grinned despite himself. "Fair."
Kaen went first. The tunnel was narrow, forcing them to crawl on elbows and knees. The walls pressed close, slick with moisture. Every breath came heavy, echoing back in the dark.
The only light came from the faint blue glow of Kaen's rune stone — weak, flickering, barely enough to show the way forward.
He could hear the others behind him — Darren's quiet curses, Riku's steady breathing, Draxion's almost soundless movement.
Each sound felt louder than thunder in that silence.
Minutes stretched, maybe hours.
The air grew colder, the tunnel narrower. At one point, Kaen thought he heard whispers — faint, crawling voices that slithered through the walls.
He shook his head. Just the wind. It had to be.
Finally, a dim light appeared ahead. Kaen crawled closer, pressing an ear to the thin stone wall. On the other side — voices. Calm, composed, powerful.
The Council.
---
Shadows Beneath Power
He found a small crack in the stone, large enough to peer through.
The corridor beyond was polished marble and iron, lit by torches that burned white instead of red. The flames cast sharp, sterile shadows across the walls — lines of runes carved deep into the stone.
Every few steps, guards stood silent — their armor engraved with the crest of the Council.
Kaen exhaled slowly, motioning to the others.
They crawled out one by one, their boots landing soft on the cold floor.
"Stay low," Kaen whispered. "We're ghosts."
They moved along the wall, slipping from shadow to shadow.
The air was too clean here, too still. It smelled of control.
Riku glanced at him. "Feels wrong," she murmured. "Like the air itself wants to scream."
Kaen nodded. "Because it knows what happens here."
As they passed a side hall, faint voices drifted from a room ahead — murmurs of judgment and calculation.
"…uncontainable power…"
"…a threat to the balance…"
"…his execution will remind them who rules this realm."
Kaen's blood boiled. He wanted to storm in, to scream that they had no right — but Riku's hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"Not yet," she whispered. "We need proof. Not rage."
He nodded reluctantly.
They crept forward, step by step, toward the main chamber.
Then — a sound broke the silence.
A faint, metallic clink.
Riku froze.
Kaen's eyes darted to the floor — a loose chain lay coiled beside a pillar, half-hidden by shadow.
Riku's boot had brushed it.
The chain rolled once.
Twice.
Then came the echo.
Every muscle in Kaen's body locked.
A sharp voice cut through the air, hard as steel.
"Stop there — you all!"
Torches flared.
Boots thundered.
Steel hissed from sheaths as armored guards rounded the corner.
Kaen's pulse spiked, breath catching in his throat.
He turned sharply, eyes meeting Riku's — wide, defiant, terrified.
No words were needed.
They were caught.
The sound of drawn blades filled the corridor, echoing like a storm breaking.
Kaen reached for his sword.
Riku dropped into stance.
Draxion's hands went to his daggers.
Darren hefted his hammer, muttering a curse under his breath.
The corridor trembled with footsteps and torchlight.
The first spear tip glinted through the dark.
Kaen's mind burned with one thought — not fear, not doubt.
No one takes him without a fight.
The guards shouted again, closer now.
The shadows thickened, wrapping around Kaen's face like a second skin.
He inhaled once, deep and steady.
"The hunt," he whispered, "has begun."